


Striking Bargains

by ghostrunner



Category: The Covenant (2006)
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-20
Updated: 2014-03-20
Packaged: 2018-01-16 09:55:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1343239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostrunner/pseuds/ghostrunner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>sting, reason,</p>
            </blockquote>





	Striking Bargains

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fourfreedoms](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fourfreedoms/gifts).



“I’m Chase Collins. I have everything I could possibly want.”

Chase does not consider this a lie. He wants Caleb, true. But he has Caleb, in every way that counts. He holds everyone Caleb loves hostage; there is nothing he couldn’t do. Couldn’t have. 

“Just think of yourself as a sacrificial lamb,” he whispers against the corner of Caleb’s mouth. 

Caleb takes a slow breath, watching Chase’s face from less than an inch away. The breath hitches and drags. He hit the mirror pretty hard. Chase’s weight on his chest probably isn’t helping. 

There’s glass all over the floor, silvered and sharp. Caleb can feel it catch and drag in his hair when Chase uses the hand on his face to turn his head a little, studying him with an intensity that shivers over his skin. 

He holds Chase’s eyes and he says, “You’ve been hurting the people I love to get to me.” His voice is rough, deeper than usual. 

Chase slides his hand slowly down Caleb’s neck, tracing his fingers along his pulse, dipping his thumb into the hollow of his throat. “Yes,” he says, in a tone of admission. He raises his eyebrows and nods a little. “Yes, I have.”

Caleb swallows hard, feeling the muscles in his throat work under the press of Chase’s hand. Chase looks dangerously fascinated, shifting back to smile down at him. Caleb lets his thighs fall open on an invitation and says, “Hurt me instead.” 

There’s a slight pause where Chase looks surprised, and then he pretends to hesitate, considering. Any hesitation on his part is a lie. They’re pressed too close to sell that one. Caleb moves a little and Chase tightens the hand around his throat reflexively.

He hums quietly to himself, thinking. “Deal,” he says, and he leans back in fast, catches Caleb’s mouth in a kiss that violates the rules of common decency. He keeps the hand around Caleb’s throat, holding him against the floor while he pulls his lower lip into his mouth.

Caleb lets Chase suck at his lower lip until his vision starts to go black around the edges. Oxygen deprivation making him dizzy and slow and fucking hard and Caleb thinks, the hell with this, and lifts one hand from the glass strewn tile to grab Chase’s belt loop and pull him down, hips pressed tight to his own. 

Chase hums into his mouth, scrapes sharp teeth across his lip, and lets up a little on the hand around his throat. “It’s like that, huh?” he says, as though that makes any fucking sense. He rocks his hips against Caleb’s and drags his nails down his chest to slide up under the edge of his shirt. 

His hands are cold and his hips are rough and Caleb’s coat is tangled beneath his shoulders so when Chase drags his shirt up, and rocks his weight down the mirrored glass cuts a thousand stinging scratches into his skin. 

Caleb props himself up on one elbow, sliding over the tile in a tinkling wave of broken glass, and presses his mouth back to Chase’s. Chase swears around Caleb’s tongue, digging his fingers into his ribs to pull him closer. 

He finally, finally (god, put it back) takes his hand from around Caleb’s throat to slide down his stomach and grab him through his jeans. Caleb rocks up into his grip and moans. He drags his mouth away for a moment to gasp for air, for clarity. Chase bites him for it. 

Hard and sudden, his teeth just under Caleb’s jawline. A sucking, wet bite that’s going to leave a mark as obvious as a house fire. 

Caleb swallows down a shout and fumbles, blind and one handed, for Chase’s belt buckle. Chase leans back with a last teasing bite at Caleb’s mouth and watches him. 

“Look at you,” he murmurs. “You’re so perfect like this.” He hisses as Caleb gets a hand around his cock, and then he laughs. “God, if your family could see you now. Your little girlfriend. Your brothers.” He squeezes down hard with the hand between Caleb’s legs. “Or would our brothers not be so surprised? Have they seen you like this before, Caleb?” His breath hitches as Caleb strokes him, rough and fast. “Do they get down on their knees for you?” he whispers, and he slips his own hand inside Caleb’s jeans. 

Caleb jerks up into him on a gasp. Their mouths collide, messy, off center. A sharp drag of teeth and there’s blood in the kiss. Caleb shifts until he can get their cocks together, wrap his hand around both of them and Chase makes a sound that’s half laugh and half groan. “Definitely had some practice,” he mumbles, bites Caleb’s cut lower lip. 

Caleb hisses, and shifts higher, presses them together harder, the glass cutting rivets into his back, his hand and forearm braced on the tile. He’s panting against Chase’s mouth now, long past the control to kiss, or speak, or think. 

“Wanted this,” Chase manages, his voice stripped down to bare wire. “Since I first heard your name.”

He makes a sharp, strangled noise and squeezes. His eyes are black and bottomless. 

The world goes white. 

When his senses come back Caleb is lying alone on the bathroom floor, his clothes and hair and body in complete disarray. Blood, mostly his, smeared across the tile and the shards of mirror; his cuts sting and burn; his mouth throbs with pain. 

Chase is looking down at him from the doorway, pleased and sated. He smirks. “Better than I ever imagined,” he says. 

Glass crunches in the tread of his boots as he leaves.


End file.
